Close Enough to Hurt Me
by desrm
Summary: She tore her way back into his world like some tall, blonde, gorgeous hurricane – turning everything upside down. And all he knew is that he needed to spend more time with her. Will/Holly, hints of Will/Emma.


**Haven't done this in a while! To people who have subscribed to me in the past for Will/Emma stories, I'm sorry. haha. But there's a little something in here for everyone so stick around! I started to write this before 'Sexy' aired and didn't get around to it until now, so it's my take on Will and Holly. Things get a little heated, so M rating! Enjoy!**

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><p>What he wanted didn't want him. Who he wanted wore a wedding band on her finger and went home to a man with a dazzling smile and a shiny, expensive new car with the muffler fully intact.<p>

He told her he loved her: that he wasn't done, and that _they_ weren't done. Then she married someone who wasn't him. The mere thought of it sat like a giant weight on his chest every day – suffocating him, making him want to beg for some sort of mercy. _"She's married"_ were the first words that echoed in his mind each morning and the last that drifted into his restless dreams at night. "_You're in love with her and she's married."_

He tried burying himself in work and Glee Club, but conjugating Spanish verbs and choreographing potential regionals numbers could only do so much. The kids managed to put a smile on his face, as they always had. Though as they left the choir room, he too was left with the last lingering notes in the air that felt like it was too thick to breathe. In the sound of silence, she invaded him: tantalizing, tortuous thoughts plagued his mind like an illness he couldn't get rid of, his heart thumping so painfully in his chest that he wanted to just reach in and do something about it.

Every time he passed by her in a hallway or walked by her office, his eye would subconsciously catch that diamond on that finger. Each time it was like a cold wave washing over him, reminding him of the cruelty of reality and the depth of his mistakes. As he made an attempt to reign in his feelings for her, she sat across a table from him and asked him if he was dating. When he managed to breathe a strangled "No," she gave him a look of pity that made him duck his head and pray that she'd look away.

"Maybe you should." She said. To him it sounded more like, _"Just give up on me, Will. We're never going to be together."_

With one more pang to his heart, he realized that (as much as he wanted it), he just couldn't be her friend. Maybe it was selfish, but she had a husband. She didn't need him. He needed to find a way to live without her, and he couldn't do that when she was sitting two feet from him, smiling an unreadable smile and toying with the band on her finger, almost as if she was trying to remind him that she wasn't his… that she'd never be his.

Soon he avoided everywhere that was anywhere she could be. He didn't want the reminder. He just wanted to forget. And though he couldn't make himself forget her, or how much he wanted to just _be with her_, it started to hurt a little less each day.

Eventually he started to think less about what he wanted, and began to think more about what he needed.

Then one day, as Emma sat across from him in the teacher's lounge and he felt himself tense, he heard the sound of heels clicking against the linoleum floor. It caught his attention, and when he turned to find the source of the noise, his face was struck with a smile that it had seldom seen lately.

"Holly?"

She tore her way back into his world like some tall, blonde, gorgeous hurricane – turning everything upside down. He didn't even care that the kids seemed to have more fun with her or that Emma suddenly had a pout on her face everywhere she went. He just knew that he needed to spend more time with her, because every time she grinned at him or told a bad joke, his heartache seemed to fade. So he invited her to co-direct Glee Club for while, and couldn't help the smile that mirrored hers when she said, "I thought you'd never ask."

They ate lunch with each other every day that week, and together they kept the Glee club both happy and focused on its impending regionals competition. Her easy nature kept a smile on his face whenever she was in the room and he couldn't help but feel a slight jolt run through his blood stream every time she stood a bit too close to him.

He could swear that, every once in a while, she would blush when he winked at her or her eyes would glimmer just a bit when they locked with his. It was exciting and new and most of all, the void he had felt for so long didn't seem so important anymore.

"Hey," he whispered to her on Friday as the kids filed out of the choir room, eager to start off the weekend. She sat on the piano, her legs dangling gracefully off of it. He couldn't help but admire them. The tips of his fingers ached to graze her skin – just to see what it felt like – but he pushed back the urge. It was all so foreign to him: to feel something, _anything_, for someone who wasn't Emma. He wasn't sure how to react to it. But he knew he definitely wanted to be closer to her, so he took a few steps toward her. She eyed him tensely but kept her constant playful gaze on her face, as he looked at her with a lopsided grin. "I could use some help fixing the choreography for the regionals number… care to join me in the auditorium?"

She tilted her head to the side with a meaningful glint in her stare, almost as if to say she knew that he already had that number tweaked to perfection. His breath evaded him for a fleeting moment as she sat there silently. "Sure!" She said finally, and he chuckled lowly as she jumped off her perch on the piano and started toward the door. He seemed to be stuck on the spot as he watched her walk away from him. As she sensed the lack of his presence near her, she made her way over to him and took his hand in hers. He reveled at the contact and the warmth it sent rushing over his skin.

"Come on," she urged, "you can teach me how to tango." He laughed, the ragged sound emanating from deep in his chest, and let her lead the way.

They walked silently to the auditorium, hands entwined carelessly the entire time. She grinned at him in a way he couldn't quite place as they stepped onto the stage. She took a seat at the baby grand piano sitting to the side of the stage and he followed suit. Facing the keys, he hit middle C with his index and ran through a random chord progression. He took a deep breath and let his hands fall from the piano. He turned his gaze toward hers, letting their eyes lock . The look of uncharacteristic seriousness in them sent a jolt straight to his heart and told him that she felt the palpable tension between them too.

"Will." She said, her breath leaving her lungs in a _whoosh_, her proximity causing it to run lightly over his face. And just like that, he wanted to kiss her.

"Hmm?" he murmured, feeling his eyelids become heavier and his tongue poke out of his mouth to moisten his hungry lips.

"The choreography… you wanted to work on it"

"Right." He uttered, shaking his head and pulling himself away from her. He stood and made his way to center stage, feeling his senses go into overdrive when the click of her heels told him she was following him.

"So, it's starts with them paired off…" he mutters, raising an uneasy hand to scratch the back of his neck in a nervous habit.

She nodded, facing him and meeting his intent gaze. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, forcing him to clear his throat. She took a step even closer to him; close enough for him to catch her perfume in the air. His fingers suddenly twitched, aching for him to reach out to her. His heart began to thump in his chest, whether from longing or the guilt of sudden wanting someone new, he didn't know. But… he wanted her; that much he knew.

"It's a love song." He turned toward her, their bodies facing, mere inches apart. The thought struck him that it would be so easy, so incredibly easy, to just lean and kiss her. "I wanted to add a little… romance." He murmured.

She whispered an acknowledgement, and he felt her tense as her took her hand and set his free one gently on her hip, aligning them perfectly in dancing position. His thumb absentmindedly began to trace patterns on her hipbone before he realized the action and stopped himself. She met his gaze through hooded eyes.

"Maybe it's time I learned a little something about romance." She said, her voice gentle, tentative. Suddenly, he just couldn't hold back anymore. He spun her around, mesmerized by the way her hair seemed to flutter with the movement. He literally swept her off her feet, supporting her weight with an arm around her slender waist and a hand behind her head. His fingers splayed in her blonde locks and he marveled at the feeling, and the sight of her staring back at him with a mixture of shock and anticipation. Yes, he definitely wanted her.

"I happen to be an excellent educator."

And then he kissed her.

She was a whirlwind of relief blowing over his life. She told him she wanted to learn about romance, so he decided to give it to her. He took her out to dinner for their first date; a well-priced, dimly lit restaurant that had a musician playing ambient piano pieces in the corner of the room. He held her hand from across the table as they had seamless conversation – some serious, and some light. She smiled at him in a way that he had never seen before. The always-present playful glint in her eye had faded into something more subdued and coy. He took care of the check and they walked out with his fingers dancing on the small of her back.

He drove them back to her apartment, tightening his grip nervously on the steering wheel as she took a look around his clunker of a car. She toyed with the dials on the radio, settled on a classic rock station and hummed a familiar melody.

As he shifted the car into park, he cleared his throat uneasily before looking over at her. She was grinning at him – that flash of her teasing manner that set a spark in his nerves. Her left hand reached out, letting slender fingers stroke the edge of his jaw, and ventured slightly into his hair. As her gaze softened, he had to keep himself from closing his own eyes and focusing on the feel of her touch.

"Follow me." She said, making her way out of the car with him quickly behind her. She took his hand and gave it a slight squeeze and she led him to her apartment, opened the door and guided them in. She shed her jacket, placing it on a hook on the wall next to them, and caught his dumbfounded look.

"Will." She giggled, stepping closer to him and placing her hands gently on his chest. Air seemed to rush into his lungs as she slid his jacket slowly off his shoulders and put it with hers. "Stay a while, will you?" she said, insinuation in her tone.

"Holly." He said pointedly. His hands rested at her hips, rubbing gently at her sides. She sighed, leaning in to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her body intoxicated him, pressed against his, and she buried her face between into the curve of his shoulder. He swore he felt her lips graze the skin at the base of his neck, and blood swarmed his veins when her attentions trailed all the way to the underside of his jaw. "Don't…" he whispered, wishing that his breathless tone could sound more assertive.

She stopped her ministrations to look him in the eye, and what he saw in her was almost enough to already break his resolve. He swallowed, hard, willing his mind to quit swimming and his body to stop yearning for her to continue – at least long enough for him to speak.

"We don't have to…" He trailed off, unsure of what exactly she had in mind for them and reluctant to seem presumptuous.

"I know," she said, her voiced hushed and a soft smile playing at her lips. "But, the way you make me feel, I just-" she stuttered and then stopped all together. He eyed her inquisitively, not speaking and not daring to interrupt her thought. She didn't say a word but instead leaned in and softly brushed her lips against his.

It was the first time they kissed since that moment in the auditorium, and it left him wanting so much more. As if she could read his mind, she spoke again.

"I want you, Will."

Any thoughts of taking things slow flew from his mind. She wanted him, and the mere thought of being wanted, of being desired, made his heart thump in his chest. He had almost forgotten what it felt like; so he couldn't help himself.

His fingers tangled in her hair, holding the back of her head, and his lips came crashing down on hers. She responded willingly and eagerly, causing a repressed groan to sneak from the depths of his chest when she swiped her tongue across his bottom lip.

The trip to her bedroom was a clumsy blur of wet, breathy kisses and greedy hands, but somehow they made it. He slammed the door behind them with his foot, causing her to chuckle against his lips. He pulled away to grin at her and tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. He played with the hem of her shirt, letting his thumbs sneak underneath it to gently stroke the skin of her stomach and feel her take in a sharp breath.

"Are you sure?" he leaned in, rumbling lowly in her ear. She held him there, her hand splayed across his jaw. He took the opportunity to plant his lips on her neck soundly.

"Show me what it's like…" she sighed as his mouth met her pulse point.

"Hmm?" he murmured as he pulled away, looking at her through hooded lids. She smiled sweetly at him, her face displaying nervousness: a thing he had never really seen in her.

"What it's like, you know, when it actually… means something." She stammered. Her hands cupped either side of his face and she kissed him again, her lips gentle and a mere whisper against his.

He did exactly what she wanted, letting no more words transpire between them as his hands began to explore her with more intent. Her breathing picked up as his touch ghosted underneath her shirt and met her feverish skin. She led them to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it, and he stood before her. She looked at him expectantly; he reached for a hand that she had resting on his hip and brought it near to kiss her palm before taking her shirt and slowly pulling it over her head. He let it fall at their feet as she made work of the buttons on his. As it opened and he shrugged it off, he felt her lips graze his stomach. She stood again, planting a few kisses across his chest before her nimble fingers played with his belt buckle.

"I'm so into you." he sighed.

Clothes were shed quickly and carefully, leaving heaps on the floor, before he settled her on the bed and hovered above her; her legs were on either side of him, holding him to her and anchoring his hips to hers. It was all almost too much to take. He leaned down to rest his forehead against hers, taking a moment of stillness. She was so gorgeous that he wanted to just worship her and make her feel every bit of romance that she was asking to feel. But as he raised his head to gaze down at her, he saw her eyes were tightly shut.

"Hey, look at me…" he whispered softly, his lips lightly skimming over her eyelids. They fluttered open and what he found underneath was an array of emotion: uncertainty, fear, desire, trust, hopefulness.

"Will…" she said needlessly, her voice thick.

"This is the way it's suppose to feel."

"What?" she became breathless as he planted a kiss to her collarbone.

"Not just… sex, but more." His hips bucked against hers, as if by instinct, and they both stifled a groan as their chests heaved together. He took her hand and placed it flat on his heated skin, over his heart. "Feel that," He said, the organ pounding against her palm. He leaned down, his mouth at the shell of her ear, "much more…" he breathed heatedly into her skin.

She didn't find the strength to speak, so she merely nodded dizzily, her cheek brushing against his as she sighed loudly.

Being with her was like being consumed by fire. All he felt was heat; the warmth of her body beneath his, wanton and writhing, made his skin burn and his head fall into a haze of pleasure. Unable to find air, he gasped and panted into her neck, incoherently mumbling in her ear everything that ventured from his heart to the tip of his tongue. Her fingertips gently grazed the taut muscles of his back, tracing his spine and making him shudder under her touch. He breathed out her name and managed to lift his head to look down at her face. She met his gaze fervently, her ministrations moving to trace the lines of his face: his jaw, his chin, his lips. He kissed the pad of her thumb and it occurred to him that she was studying him, committing him and the moment to memory. He kissed her then, slowly and languorously, his tongue meeting hers and making her hum into his mouth.

When they collapsed in a pile of spent and sated limbs, she giggled as he immediately laid next to her and pulled her into his side with an arm around her shoulders. She laid her head on his chest and brushed random patterns on his skin as he leveled his breathing.

Not a single word transpired between them, and he found that he took comfort in the silence. They didn't need to talk about anything, because what that needed to be said was drifting in the air around them: whispered words of pleasure and want making witness of no one but the walls.

Her legs entwined with his and he began to slowly fall into slumber when she let out a quiet chuckle.

"What?" he said, his voice throaty and full of sleep.

"This is usually the part when I tell the guy that he needs to be gone before I wake up."

Sudden sadness for her shocked him in to speechlessness. The mere thought of living that way, keeping the entire world at bay and only allowing people to see fleeting glimpses of yourself, made his heart pang for her. He shifted uncomfortably in her embrace and she, sensing it, tensed.

"Not you." she whispered, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck. He sighed, relief flooding through his veins, and tightened his hold on her just slightly. She kissed his neck gently, breathing in his ear. "Stay with me. At least a little while longer."

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><p><strong>Let me know what you think! This will be a two-parter so I hope to have the next chapter up soon!<br>**


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